We were walking along the dusty roads of the Empire's capital, the kind of roads that never seemed to quiet down. The sound of loud chatter, wheels grinding against sand, and hooves clopping against the uneven ground filled the air, echoing from every corner like the pulse of the city itself. The Empire still hadn't embraced modernity—even now, their roads were nothing more than sand-packed pathways, which explained why only carriages and horses moved through the streets. Not a single car in sight.
Well, horses weren't that bad. In fact, they had their advantages. They were easy enough to handle, efficient for travel, and unlike cars, they weren't restricted to smooth, straight paths. A horse could carry you up slopes, through rough and uneven terrain, places where a car would break down before even making it halfway. In a way, the Empire's stubbornness against modernity made sense here.
